


I've Got You Under My Skin

by FlowersOnMyMind



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bottom Clint, Brock Rumlow is jerk, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Circus Performer Clint Barton, Deaf Clint Barton, Established Stony, Gym owner Bucky, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Romance, Sexual Content, Stony - Freeform, Top Bucky, Violence, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-08 23:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17396030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlowersOnMyMind/pseuds/FlowersOnMyMind
Summary: Hawkeye walks across the tent, and up to him. Up close Bucky can see his piercing blue eyes underneath the mask. There is purple glitter makeup around his eyes from what he can see under the mask, and there's purple glitter sprayed in his dirty blonde hair. "Hi," He says, "Could I trouble you for a dime?" He smiles and Bucky can't breathe and his chest feels tight. What's happening?OrBucky, ex-military and co-owner of Earth’s Mightiest gym, has grown cold and mean since losing his arm in Afghanistan. His best friend, Steve Rogers does everything he can to make him happy. So, one day Steve surprises him with Circus tickets. Bucky reluctantly goes. And who would have thought the circus would turn his life around?





	1. Well, I saw you flash a smile

**Author's Note:**

> ~This is my first Winterhawk fic, so be gentle, please.~

2013 Afghanistan  
_It smells...too clean, like antiseptic and pneumonia. He couldn't possibly be on the base back in Afghanistan. This smell is far too overwhelming. He's so used to the smells of sweat, dirt, and smoke. He feels like he's floating. No, he's on a bed. One that is much more comfortable than his usual cot or sleeping bag._

 _There's a constant beeping that's getting on his nerves. What is it? He wants to yell for someone to turn it off, but his throat is too dry. His mouth feels as though it is full of cotton. He tries, really he does, but all that comes out is a painful cough. He chokes. And he hears something beautiful above his coughing and the beeping._

_"Bucky! It's okay, hold on! I'll get you some water!" It's Steve. Steve is here! That makes him feel so much better._

_Soon something is pressed to his lips. A straw. Every part of him feels weak, even his lips. Soon he is greedily drinking the water given to him. "Take it easy, Buck. You'll make yourself sick." Steve says softly._

_He slows down as Steve instructed him to do. He is finally able to pry his eyes open. The light is thankfully dim in the room. The room. He's in a hospital. Steve is sitting beside him, looking far worse for wear. His hair is greasy and flat, he has dark circles underneath his eyes. He has a stitched cut above his left brow, and one across the bridge of his nose, a bruise along his jawline._

_"You look like crap, Stevie." Bucky jests, voice hoarse and rough._

_Steve is giving him a smile, a rueful smile and Bucky expects him to shoot back with, 'well, you're the one in the hospital or take a look in the mirror." But instead, he says, "I'm glad you're awake, Buck. You scared me."_

_"What happened?"_

_"We were in a jeep, on the way back to base, Dum Dum was driving, when we were ambushed. The Howling Commandos are all okay. I mean, Pinky broke his leg, and Jim got a pretty bad concussion, they all have some scrapes and bumps. But everyone is relatively okay." Steve suddenly can't meet his eyes and glances down, swallowing thickly._

_"Then why the long face?"_

_"It's..." He swallows again, looking back up at Bucky. "It's going to be okay, Buck." Bucky's face twists in confusion. What the hell is Steve going on about this time? He wants to ask, but Steve is getting more upset by the second. Is his face all scarred up or something? Did he break his leg? He glances down, no casts, he wiggles his toes. No, no broken legs. His right arm isn't in a cast either. His left arm...his left arm is completely gone. No, this thing only happens to other people. Not him._

_"Tony Stark came by. He was looking for someone to...he has this project. He says he could try to make you an arm. He seems sincere." Steve's voice is thick._

_Bucky let's out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "So, it's going to be okay, Bucky. Everything is going to be okay." Tears are rolling down Steve's cheeks now. "I'm here, Buck. Til the end of the line remember?" Bucky stares ahead and waits to wake up from this nightmare._

 

2018 New York City Friday  
The only sound in the office is the scribbling of pen on paper and the rustling of said papers as Bucky turns the pages. The downfall of co-owning a gym, _Earth's Mightiest_ , is all the paperwork that comes with it. He's halfway through the first stack when the door opens and in comes a rather large blonde. "I told you to knock!" Growls Bucky. 

Steve's excited smile never falters. "Guess what!"

"You decided to help me fill out all this paperwork?" 

He steps forward and lays down three small, but thick pieces of paper. Bucky only glances down at them. In Old English Text print is written _Fury's Circus of Traveling Wonders_. 

"They're circus tickets!" Says Steve, the amount of excitement he is omitting is giving Bucky a headache. 

"I can see that. Why are they on my desk?" 

"Because you, Tony, and I are going tonight!" 

"I think not. Now, get them off my desk. I have work to do. You and Tony go." He picks his pen back up and scribbles his signature down on a paper. 

"No way, Buck. You have to come. I want my best friend with me."

"Well, you're just going to have to settle for your boyfriend going." 

"It wouldn't be the same without you there, Buck. Please, I'm begging."

"Why would I waste my time at a circus, Steve? I'll probably get pickpocketed or have my watch stolen. You know how circus people are." 

"Bucky!" Steve scolds. "That's not nice. That's stereotyping! And I didn't want to have to do this, but Tony said he has a new update to do on your arm, and I told him not to do it unless you agree to come."

Bucky glances down at his left arm, which is hidden beneath his suit jacket, and a black leather glove he wears whenever he is out. "That's not fair." 

"What's not fair is that I haven't spent time with my best friend in months. Longer even. Please, Bucky. I miss you." 

Bucky glances up at the blonde, who is looking rather sad. Bucky sighs, "Fine. What time?" 

"We'll pick you up at 6!" Steve is smiling again and all Bucky can think is how much he wants to punch his perfect teeth. 

"Okay, well I have an appointment. See ya tonight!" With that, he leaves. Bucky slumps against his chair. How dare Steve blackmail him into going to a smelly, dirty circus full of thieves? Not only when will he have to endure that, but also Steve and Tony. When they're together they're absolutely sickening. 

 

At 6:20 PM Tony and Steve pull up in front of his apartment building in Tony's 2017 Aston Martin Vanquish Volante. "Sorry, we're late," Steve says from the from the passenger seat, "The traffic was pretty bad." He looks to Tony, "I told you we should have left earlier." 

Tony shrugs, "I like to keep people waiting. It builds... you know," He wiggles his fingers, "suspense." 

Bucky scowls and gets in the car. Tony whips the car around the one he was parked behind. "Oh don't look so glum pal!" He says glancing into the mirror briefly. "I know! The clowns will cheer you up! Unless you have a horrible fear of clowns? I never understood why some people were so afraid of clowns. They're just people in horrible makeup and bad clothes." Steve smiles at him before shaking his head. Bucky watches as Tony rests a hand on Steve's thigh. Steve lifts the hand and intertwines their fingers together. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. Not only will he have to sit surrounded by screaming children, but he will also have to endure Steve and Tony acting like...this. And that's another thing; Tony. Tony is rich and likes everyone to know it. He's conceited and annoying. One day he'll be on a juice cleanse and then the next on brandy cleanse. And Steve loves him. He never understood and probably never will. Yeah, he's grateful that Tony made him an arm, but why does he have to be so annoying? 

"What are you looking forward to seeing Bucky?" Steve asks, glancing back at him. 

"My bed when you drop me off," Bucky says, keeping his gaze to the window, watching buildings as they pass by. 

"Oh," Steve looks turns his head back around to look at his lap. Bucky doesn't miss the glare he gets from Stark. 

As Tony parks, Bucky can already see the place is overrun with children and parents being dragged around by said children. Steve and Tony walk hand in hand to the entrance, Bucky walking behind him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his black trench coat. 

"Hey Sweetie Pie, could you go get us some popcorn?" Tony asks, handing Steve a hundred dollar bill. Of course, he only carries around hundred dollar bills, Bucky rolls his eyes. 

"I have money, you know," Steve says. Tony wiggles the bill, waiting for him to take it. Steve does, hesitantly, and walks off. 

Tony is suddenly standing in front of Bucky. "Listen here, Barnes, I know you hate everyone and everything, but you could at least pretend to be nice. Do you think I want to spend Friday night at the circus? The answer is no. I would much rather be at my house in Malibu, with Steve, in my bed. But Steve wants to be here. And I want Steve happy. So stop acting like a dick, and trying to ruin his night." 

Bucky is momentarily taken aback. He would have thought he would be used to Tony being so blunt, but Tony Stark catches him off guard from time to time. He doesn't reply, only gives a reluctant nod. A smile graces Tony's lips, and he slaps Bucky's arm, "Great!" 

Steve comes back to them and hands each of them a small bag of popcorn. "Thanks, Steven," Tony grins, making Steve wince at the name. "My mom called me that. It's creepy when you do." 

Tony shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth. "Let's get some drinks." He walks off. Steve looks to Bucky. "Everything okay?" Instead of Bucky's permanent scowl, Bucky just sighs, "Yeah, Steve. Come on." 

Tony buys them sodas in glass bottles and cotton candy and big pretzels. Bucky sticks with his bag of popcorn and the soda. He leaves everything else for the other two. 

"Everyone!" A tall, thin man who is balding yelled from beside the big top tent, "Step right up and see the magnificent Maximoffs! See the man who can lift 300 pounds; The Mighty Thor! The mysterious Black Widow and Spiderman, who perform acrobatics with no safety net! I repeat no safety net ladies and gentleman! And of course, the Amazing Hawkeye who can shoot a penny that is thrown into the air! 5 dollars for adults, 3 for children!" 

"Can we check it out?" Steve asks Tony. 

"Anything for you, Sweetie Pie!" 

Bucky hears Steve groan softly. "Stop calling me that." Tony just chuckles as he hands the man a twenty. The man hands him back five dollars and holds open the flap, ushering the three men inside the tent. Steve leads them to the front row. He sits between Tony and Bucky. It's another 15 minutes before the lights go down.

A spotlight appears in the center of the tent. A tall man dressed in black boots, khaki pants, and a red jacket, with a top hat is standing in the light. He has dark skin, is bald, and has an eyepatch, that Bucky figured was just for show. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!" He shouts, his voice coming in loud and clear throughout the tent. "It's an honor to be here with you tonight! Now, sit back and enjoy the show!" The spotlight goes away. 

It's completely dark for a moment before the lights come back on, in the center ring is a large man, even from where Bucky is sitting he knows he's taller than Steve and more muscular too. He has long blonde hair and small braids throughout it. He's in black tights, silver lines running down either side, a thin black sleeveless spandex top to show off his huge arms and a long, flowing red cape. "Hello!" His voice booms throughout the tent. He has an accent that Bucky can't place. He rests a hand over his large chest, "I am the Mighty Thor!" The crowd cheers. "I would like someone from the crowd to come down and try to lift this weight!" He gestures to the weights in front of him. "There is one hundred and fifty pound on each side!" Everyone sits up straight in their seats, hands going up in the hair, people shouting, "Oh me, me!" 

"You there, sir!" He points to the crowd, "Come on down, please!" A man with red hair climbs down through the crowd and is lead by assistants through the gate. He has some muscle but looks like a so tiny next to Thor. "If you would please," Thor gestures to the weight. The man braces himself and rolls his shoulders to prepare himself. His hands grip the bar and he tries to lift the weight. "As you can see, the weight is real. We do not deceive here." He pats the man on the back, a bit too hard. "Thank you, friend. You may be seated now." The man leaves the tent all together in red in the face. 

"Now, I will attempt to lift such weight!" Thor steps up to the bar, and his hands grip it tightly. He grunts, but slowly lifts the weight above his head. The crowd cheers and Steve looks awestruck. Thor goes on to lift an anvil and toss it a whole yard. He bends a steel rod into a U shape and gives it to a little girl as a souvenir. He bows, "Thank you!" 

The lights go down again. And when they come back on Thor is gone. The ring master's voice comes in again. "If you could direct your attention above, you will see The Mysterious Black Widow!" 

Everyone looks up to the top of the tent. A woman dressed in all black, with fiery red hair is standing on a platform, the bar swing in her hand. She waves to them down below. 

"As you can see, ladies and gents, there is no safety net!" There are cries and gasps from the crowd. Bucky rolls his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. 

She steps off the platform, swinging across the tent and then grabbing onto another swing. She flies through the air until she is on the platform on the opposite side of the tent. This time when she steps off the platform she holds onto the swing by her knees. She meets the second swing and grabs it. She flies to the platform and right into the arms of a man. When did he get up there? 

"Give it up for Spiderman, everyone!" The ringmaster shouts. 

Black Widow hands the swing to Spiderman who jumps off the platform and swings, holding the bar with only one hand. Everyone gasps. Now he is one swing while she is on the other. She swings by her knees again, and when they meet in the middle she holds her hands out and grabs them, pulling her from her swing. This goes on for a few more minutes when one of their swings breaks, a wire comes loose, making everyone gasp and scream and stand. 

Spiderman swings Widow to safety. And just when it looks like Spiderman is going to slip from the bar and fall to his death, Widow comes in on the other swing and grabs him. The swing is lowered until can safely drop to the floor. They hold hands and bow. The crowd cheers while the ringmaster says, "Don't worry, folks! It was all part of the show!" 

Again they are plunged into darkness. The lights come back on to reveal clowns. "We figured after giving you all such a scare that some comedy relief is needed!" 

The clowns run around, spraying water on each other and throwing pies, slipping and falling down over one another. Steve laughs, and Tony smiles because his boyfriend is happy. Bucky hates clowns. And no, not because he's scared of them, because they're annoying. Thankfully their act ends with them piling into a car way too small for them and they drive off. 

"Well," The ringmaster laughs, "Aren't they something, folks? How about a round of applause for the clowns!" The tent erupted in clapping. 

The spotlights move wildly across the tent, "Get ready for the Magificant Maximoffs!"

A woman dressed in black and red, and a man with bleached white hair, dressed in silver and blue appear in the center of the ring. "Good evening," The woman says. "I am the Scarlet Witch!" She shouts, her accent thick, "And this is my brother, Quicksilver!" He bows as he is introduced. "And we are here to show you our magic!" He says. 

They get a volunteer from the crowd, a blonde woman. She stands by the Witch, her purse at her feet. "I am going to read your mind!" The Scarlet Witch says. She places her hand on the woman's forehead. It's quiet for a moment, "You have a cat, an orange cat." The woman gasps, "Yes! I do!" 

"You have recently moved?"

The woman gapes at her. "How could you know that?"

The Witch ignores her, continuing on with her act. "You are very bright, graduated from college to be...a doctor!" 

"That's amazing!" The woman yells. 

The Scarlet Witch bows as the crowd claps. They usher her back to her seat. And the brother gets another volunteer, a man this time. He's dressed smartly in a suit, hair slicked back. "How are you tonight, sir?" 

"I'm fine and yourself?"

"Can't complain." 

"What do you do for a living?" 

"I'm a lawyer." 

"That is interesting. Defense?" 

"Yes." The man nods. 

"Are you married? Any children?"

"Uh, no," The man chuckles nervously, "Neither."

It's Quicksilver's turn to nod. "Do you like to golf? You seem like a golfer. 

"I play sometimes." 

"Okay, well, it was lovely talking with you, sir! You can take your seat!" 

"But all you did was ask me questions," The man huffs out a laugh. 

"But I got everything I need from you, sir. Like, your wallet," He holds up a long, brown leather wallet. The man pats his pants pockets, front, and back. He grabs it from Quicksilver. "I got your watch," He dangles it from the man. The crowd laughs. "You're a thief!" The man yells but is smiling in awe. 

"Do you have anything else of mine?"

Quicksilver unrolls something long, and black. "Just your belt." The crowd laughs louder. 

The man takes it from him. "Amazing!" He shouts. Quicksilver smiles, "You may take your seat, sir. But you might want your tie." The man is quick to look at his chest where his tie should be. Quicksilver is holding out the blue garment. "Wow!" The man takes it from him. "Go on now, before I take your socks!" Quicksilver shouts and the man goes back to his seat. 

The crowd is wild, clapping and cheering. Quicksilver wraps an arm around his sister's waist, pulling her in close so they can bow together. 

"Now, ladies and gents, I'm afraid we've arrived at our last act of the night!" There are lots of moans and protests. 

"Have no fear, we have many more acts like Vision the hypnotist, Daredevil the blind man with no fear, and Antman the man who can talk to ants, plus Loki the Master of Mischief." 

Bucky snorts, "Oh, brother." They have Spiderman, Black Widow, and Antman? Do they have Beetle man too? Praying Mantis Man? 

"They will perform tomorrow evening! Same place, same time! But for now, give it up for the Amazing Hawkeye!" 

A man walks to the center of the ring. He's dressed in black, with sparkly purple stripes up the side of his black tights, and one across his black sleeveless shirt. He's wearing a black mask across his eyes. He has a long bow in his hand, and a quiver filled with arrows on his back. The bow is black with purple accents. 

"Hey!" He says. "For my first act, I'm going to need a dime! Can someone lend me a dime?" 

The crowd goes wild, suddenly everyone holding out dimes, even Steve. Bucky rolls his eyes. All he wants is to go home, eat real food and take a shower. His stomach feels hollow, just eating popcorn and Coke, and his shoes are sticky, and he knows he smells like animals, his head is pounding from the people screaming around him. 

Hawkeye walks across the tent, walks along the short wall, assessing the crowd until he stops. He's standing right in front of Bucky. Up close Bucky can see his piercing blue eyes underneath the mask. There is purple glitter makeup around his eyes from what he can see under the mask, and purple glitter sprayed in his dirty blonde hair. "Hi," He says, "Could I trouble you for a dime?" He smiles and Bucky can't breathe and his chest feels tight. What's going on? 

"Sir?" Hawkeye's grin widens. 

Bucky is vaguely aware of Steve taking his hand and dropping a coin in it. Bucky dumbly holds his hand out, the tiny, silver coin resting in his palm. Hawkeye's fingers brush his palm and oh, how Bucky wishes he wasn't wearing gloves so he could feel Hawkeye's skin against his own. Hawkeye takes the quarter. "Thanks, good lookin'," He winks at Bucky before leaving. 

"Everyone see this dime?" He asks, holding the dime up, it shines in the spotlight. "Well, I'm going to shoot it, mid-air!" 

He tosses it high in the air and in just a second he grabs an arrow from behind him, places it in his bow and shoots. When the coin lands on the sawdust-covered ground, he walks to the coin, bends over and picks it up. He walks close to the crowd again to show everyone the dent in it. Everyone is amazed and Bucky wants that dime, wants to hold it in his hand and brush his fingers over the dent Hawkeye made, touch something Hawkeye had touched. 

He walks down the bleachers, showing everyone the dime. He stops at Bucky and flicks the dime in the air. Bucky catches it and looks at the coin, Steve leans against his shoulder, Tony leaning against Steve's so they could see the coin. Sure enough, a dent is right in the center of it. Amazing. Bucky looks up, but to his dismay, Hawkeye is gone. He's standing on one side of the ring, while on the other side is targets. 

Within seconds he shot ten arrows, all going in the center of one of the targets. He then shoots a single arrow through another, that was embedded in the target, splitting it down the middle. 

He does some flips while shooting, always moving so gracefully. Bucky is entranced by his every move. He even does a front flip, shooting an arrow, and then landing, doing the splits and shooting another. 

He bows, signaling the end of his act and Bucky feels a horrible dread fill his chest. That's it? He wasn't on long enough! "Thank you, you're all wonderful! Come back and see me Sunday night! I will shoot targets while standing on the back of a galloping horse! And thank you to the man who let me borrow his dime!" Bucky's heart is thudding painfully in his chest. What is happening to him? Heartburn from the popcorn? Stress from work? 

The ringmaster is standing in the middle of the ring once again. He's speaking, but Bucky isn't listening. He's looking down at the coin in his hand. Steve nudges him. "Cool, huh?" 

Bucky pockets the dime and shrugs. "Yeah," He says softly. 

"Let's go play some games." He hears Steve say to Tony. 

Tony buys a huge roll of tickets. Bucky hears him say something about winning Steve a prize at every booth. He was actually having a good time watching Stark fail at knocking down a pyramid of bottles when someone bumps into him. "Sorry, buddy!" The man says, not stopping. Bucky looks at him as he walks away. There is something familiar about him. He watches as the man goes up to one of the many snack booths and talk to the woman behind it. She hands him a glass bottle of Coca-Cola and he hops up on one of the picnic tables, sipping it, kicking his feet happily as if the soda was the best thing he's ever tasted. He watches as he takes something from his pocket, and look through it. 

It's Hawkeye. Bucky thinks after watching him for a few moments. He walks over to him. 

Hawkeye looks up at him and Bucky can see the remains of the purple makeup on his eyes. He still has purple glitter in his hair. And he's wearing purple...Are those hearing aids? He wasn't wearing those earlier, was he? Who knows, Bucky was too mesmerized by his eyes to notice anything else. Bucky can't help but think of how young he is to be wearing them. 

"Hi," Hawkeye says. 

"Uh, your act was really cool." Bucky refrains from wincing at his horrible attempt at flirting. Back in the day, before he lost his arm he was known as a ladies man. He could charm the pants off any woman he liked. But with the loss of his arm, came the loss of his confidence. 

"Thanks. And uh, thanks for the dime." Hawkeye grins. He's changed out of his Hawkeye attire and is now wearing an old pair of blue jeans, and a purple t-shirt, with a black jacket over it. 

Damn, this man is beautiful. 

"Uh, yeah, no problem." Bucky internally groans. He's been out of the game too long. 

"The name's Clint." 

"Clint," Bucky says, just to taste the name. "Nice to meet you. I'm James, but everyone calls me Bucky." 

"Is it that because your middle name is Buchanan?" 

Bucky's eyes widen. "How do you know that?" 

Clint holds out a wallet. A smooth, dark brown, rectangular wallet. A wallet with JBB stamped in the far right corner. Bucky pats his pockets, his pants pockets, and his coat pockets. The wallet in Clint's hand is definitely his. He slowly takes the wallet and refrains himself from brushing his fingers over Clint's. "How did you...?"

"I'm in the Circus," Clint replies, smirking. "It's one of my many talents. Don't worry, everything is still there." Bucky doesn't check, he just pockets the wallet. 

"That's pretty impressive." 

So, why don't you like James?" 

"My best friend came up with Bucky when we were 5 or so," He shrugs, "It just always stuck, and it sounds better than James anyway. James is boring."

"I like James." Clint says and Bucky looks down, cheeks reddening, "It's a good name." 

"Um, s-so, how long are you here?" Bucky stutters and mentally tells himself to get a grip! 

"A week, maybe two if business is good. But we always do good in New York."

"Do you have another show tomorrow?" 

Clint shakes his head. "No, the other acts perform tomorrow. But I perform the night after." 

"So, tomorrow night you're free to have dinner with me?" It shocks him even as the words come from his mouth. Okay, maybe he still has some game after all. 

Clint slowly grins, "I knew you were flirting with me." 

Bucky huffs out a laugh. "Maybe."

Clint sips his drink and Bucky watches as his lips wrap around the mouth of the bottle and how his throat moves as the soda slides down his throat. Bucky never thought he would be jealous of a bottle. 

Clint brings the bottle down and licks his pink lips. Bucky wants to lick them himself. "Well, James, I guess you could take me to dinner." 

What? Did Bucky hear correctly? This gorgeous man agreed to go on a date with Bucky? Maybe this whole evening has been a dream? 

Clint hops down, bottle now empty. "Meet me here tomorrow. 7, okay?"

Bucky just nods, not trusting his voice. "Great, see you then!" As he walks off he tosses the bottle into the trashcan by the food stand. How did he do that? He wasn't even looking! Once again Clint has left Bucky amazed. Steve and Tony walk up to him. "I love it, really Tony." In Steve's hand is a small green turtle. Tony is grumbling. "Whatever. These games are all a scam anyway. I'll just buy you something." Steve smiles affectionately at him before looking to Bucky. "Who was that?" 

"Oh, uh," Bucky kicks some grass, looking down, "The Amazing Hawkeye."

Tony comes out of his mood. "Wait, you were talking, actually holding a conversation with someone that isn't Steve? I bet you scared him off with that glare of yours." He laughs as Steve scolds him, "Tony!" 

Bucky's usual frown appears. "Let's go." He starts walking off towards Tony's car. He can Steve chastise Tony. "Tony, why would you say that?"

"What? I was joking! He needs to learn how to take a joke!"

"Tony, please," Steve says exasperatedly. 

Bucky ignores them on the ride home. When they pull up to his apartment Steve smiles, "I had fun, Buck. Did you?" 

"Yeah sure, Steve," Bucky mumbles as he gets out. 

"See you tomorrow!" Steve yells. 

Bucky doesn't greet Stan, the doorman, or the Jack the elevator guy. Jack takes him up to his floor, the 12th floor. His apartment is nice and expensive. Steve used to live on the 11th floor until Tony asked him to move in with him a few months ago. He drops his keys into the bowl by the door and hangs his jacket on the hook on the wall. He leans against the wall, breathing in and out deeply. Did tonight really happen? Or is he going to go to bed and wake up tomorrow to find out all of this was a dream? If it is Bucky couldn't handle it. No, it's not a dream, Bucky decides. He couldn't make up someone as beautiful as Clint.


	2. Oh, my, my you just took me by surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~I'm honestly not proud of this chapter, but I need to post it so I can write chapter three! Chapter three will be much better! Try to hold on until then, please? I forgot to mention I am basing this off of MCU Clint and Bucky, so Bucky will be taller than Clint in this story. Also, thank you for all of the reviews and kudos! You're all wonderful! ~

2004 Iowa  
_8-year-old Clint Barton is hiding in the linen closet, in the far right corner, under the bottom shelf. He knows it's always worse when he hides, but he would do anything to prolong the beating even just for a few short minutes. He hears the opening and slamming of doors and heavy footsteps. His dad is looking for him. It's only a matter of seconds before his dad finds him. "Clint, come out, Clint. M'not gonna hurtcha!" Even from where Clint is he knows his dad had been drinking. The beatings are always worse. His dad doesn't know when to stop when he's been drinking._

_"Clinton!" He yells louder. "You git your ass out hur righ' now!" His words are slurred. Yes, he's definitely drunk._

_Clint covers his mouth with both hands painfully, trying to keep his panicked breathing at bay. He wants to take his hearing aids off, plunging him into silence. But he has done that before when his dad was looking for him and it makes the anticipation worse, gives him no warning of where his dad is in the house._

_"C-Clint, just come out, okay?" It's Barney. His brother knows it does no good to hide. But Clint just_ needs _these extra few moments. He pictures their father holding Barney by the arm, squeezing it as he makes Barney beg for his brother to come out. "Please, Clint. Dad won't hurt you." Barney's plea is followed by skin slapping on skin and Barney whimpering. Clint knows the best thing right now is to leave the safety of the linen closet and face his dad. His dad would beat him and then he would be free to go to his room again, to wait for his dad to come back and beat him again._

_Clint doesn't understand why he couldn't have nice, loving parents like the other kids at school have. Why did he have to get stuck in this horrible family? Someone has to he supposes._

_The door is ripped open, making Clint let out a frightened cry. "There you are, Clinton." His dad is standing in the doorway, swaying a little, hair askew, clothes wrinkled, eyes bloodshot. "Dad, please," Clint begs, knowing it won't do any good. Fat tears are already rolling down his pink cheeks. Clint knows it does no good to hide, he knows it does no good to beg, but he just always hopes it will work this time. This time his dad will lose interest and just go back to his chair in the living room and forget about Clint for the time being._

_His dad bends down and Clint can smell his breath. It stinks. It always does when he's like this. His dad's hand closes around Clint's skinny arm. He squeezes so hard Clint whimpers. He yanks Clint up and out of the closet and jerks him around, his body and head colliding into the wall. His vision goes black for a moment. Clint is crying and his dad hasn't even really started yet. Crying makes it worse, but Clint can't help it. He's a child. His father is someone whom he is supposed to trust and who is supposed to love him. He doesn't trust his father and Clint knows his father doesn't love him._

_The pain spreads through his little body as his father starts throwing punches and kicks. Everything goes dark and when he wakes up he's in his bed. Barney is sitting at the foot of his bed, leaned up against the wall, his feet hanging off the bed. His aids are gone. Barney points to his nightstand. Clint rolls his head around to look. He sees his aids there, flesh-colored and old. He doesn't make a move to reach for them. Instead, he looks toward the window. It's dark out. Barney shakes his leg to get his attention. "Dad grabbed mom and went to the store to buy cigarettes," Barney says, speaking clearly so Clint could read his lips, "About five hours ago."_

_Barney has a black eye and busted lip. His brother who is five years older, never intervenes when their dad is hurting Clint, his brother speaks no words of comfort, and Clint doesn't think he and his brother have ever shared a hug. In act, him bringing Clint to bed after Clint passed out has been the nicest thing his brother has ever done for him. He went to a boy's house he knew from school once and stayed for dinner. The parents and boy, and the boy's sister loved each other. The dad wasn't drunk or didn't have a beer with dinner, the mom didn't smoke cigarette after cigarette, the boy's little sister was sweet and even drew a picture for Clint. He wished he had a family like that. When the time to go home came Clint almost cried. He clutched the drawing to his chest and left with a small, "Thank you." He wanted to say "Thank you for showing me what a real family is like, thank you for being so kind to me. Just thank you." When he got home his dad broke his nose._

_Clint is relieved his parents are gone for the time being. No pain, no bruises, no tears. Just him and his brother alone in the quiet of their house._

 

 _The next morning a couple of policemen come by. Their parents were still gone. Barney answers the door. They tell him that their parents were in a horrible car accident and didn't make it. Clint remembers standing in the hall, listening to the police as they explained. He doesn't feel sad or mad. He just feels...numb._

_He was too lost in his thoughts to realize the police left. Barney is in front of him, hands on his boney shoulders, clutching them tightly, face full of alarm. "Go pack a bag, Clint. Hurry! They're going to call a woman and she's going to put us in a boy's home!"_

_Clint didn't know what a boy's home was, but the urgency in his brother's voice strikes fear through him. "But..." And his voice cracks._

_"No buts! Listen to me! Do you want the police to come back and take us away to live with us a bunch of strangers? A bunch of mean boys and parents worse than ours were?" Tears prickle Clint's eyes painfully and he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, not really knowing what to say to that. Barney's face contorts into a look of anger and he roughly turns Clint around and shoves him towards the hallway. "GO!"_

_He does what Barney tells him, runs to his room and dumps out his school stuff from his backpack and puts in the few shirts, pants, socks, and underwear he had. He sniffles and wipes away his tears. He ties his beat up Chucks and goes downstairs. There are a few framed pictures of him and Barney when they were little; presents from their grandmother on the intable in the hall. He reaches up, fingers brushing against his aids. His grandmother had also got them for him when...the accident happened. Clint wishes she was still alive. They could go live her if she was. That would be nice. MawMaw was always kind, bringing Clint and Barney presents and treats when she visited. The only bright spot in Clint's life._

_He takes the photos from the frames and puts the pictures in his bag. Barney rushes down the stairs and into the kitchen. He's stuffing things from the pantry into his bag; a few packets of pop tarts, a half loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter. They never had much food in the house._

_"I took all the money I found in mom and dad's room. It's only $9.63. Go check the couch and dad's chair for change. Anything helps." Clint runs into the living room and digs his hands in the cracks of the couch and their dad's recliner. He even looks under the couch, but only finds 23 cents. He's scared to tell his brother the small amount of change he's found, but his brother only sighs softly and pockets the change._

_With not even ten dollars the two boys head out of the house and into the world._

2018 New York City Friday 

The adrenaline that always courses through his veins during a show is what Clint lives for. With his bow in his hand, he feels invincible, like he's on top of the world. Like nothing can touch him. The rush of stepping out into the ring, facing dozens of cheering and clapping people, makes his chest feel tight. And he never gets tired of amazing the crowd, knows it makes them happy. And Clint likes to make other people happy. The shining lights, the cheering crowd, and the smell of popcorn...What could be better than this?

"Hey!" He says the tiny microphone clipped to his shirt booms his voice through the tent. "For my first act, I'm going to need a dime! Can someone lend me a dime?"

The crowd goes crazy, men, women, boys and girls all holding out dimes for him, begging him to take their coin. Clint grins, scanning the crowd for the perfect person. His eyes land on a man. A very handsome man. He's dressed smartly and had long hair. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked like someone ate his last piece of pizza. And that's just wrong. Maybe Clint can change that. The circus is supposed to make people happy! 

He ventures over to him. The man's eyes fall on him and he just stares. "Hi," He says, "Could I trouble you for a dime?" Clint gives him his best smile and the man's face just kind of...drops. _Deer in headlights_ , Clint muses. But that doesn't matter, the guy is seriously hot. The man stares, and Clint smiles back. After a moment Clint comes to the conclusion that the man is taking too long. "Sir?" He asks, smiling wider. 

The giant blonde, although not as giant as Thor, next to the handsome man reaches over and takes the man's hand, and proceeds to drop a coin in it. Like a robot, the man holds his hand open, dime shining under the spotlight. Clint reaches out, brushing his fingertips lightly over Handsome's gloved hand to get the coin. 

Clint sends him a wink, "Thanks, good lookin'." He heads back to the center of the ring, hoping Handsome was watching. If there's one thing Clint likes, is for the crowd to watch him, but it's another thing entirely when a seriously hot man is watching. 

"Everyone see this dime?" He asks, holding the dime up. "Well, I'm going to shoot it, mid-air!" He almost laughs when he hears the crowd's gasping and comments of disbelief. 

He tosses it high in the air and in just a second he grabs an arrow from his quiver on his back, places it in his bow and shoots. He walks to the coin, bends over and picks it up. He walks close to the crowd again to show everyone the dent in it. The crowd is silent, waiting in anticipation to see if the Amazing Hawkeye is actually as amazing as the circus claims. They all lean forward in their seats to see the coin better. 

He walks down the bleachers, showing everyone the dime, more and more people clapping as they see the dented coin. What could possibly be better than this? He stops at Handsome and flicks the dime in the air. The man catches it and looks at the coin, the big blonde and the man with the funny looking facial hair lean over to see the coin. Clint spares just a second to take in the look of awe on Handsome's face before walking back to the ring. While he had been showing the crowd the coin, circus hands had been setting up his targets. 

Within seconds he shoots ten arrows, all going in the center of one of the targets. He then shoots a single arrow through another, that was embedded in the target, splitting it down the middle. With every arrow he shoots, the crowd gets louder and louder. 

Clint flips around, shooting arrows as he does, the crowd gasping and cheering keeping him going. By the end of his act, he hopes he's brightened Handsome's show with his act. He gets to his feet after doing the splits, while hitting the target dead center. Taking a bow he feels a small heaviness within his chest. 'Aw no more, handsome, hot guy', he thinks. He almost pouts. 

"Thank you, you're all wonderful! Come back and see me Sunday night! I will shoot targets while standing on the back of a galloping horse! And thank you to the man who let me borrow his dime!" He almost threw in _handsome_ man but Fury would have yelled at him for sexually harassing customers. He walks out of the tent just as Fury's voice echoes loudly through the tent. 

He steps out into the crisp, cold night air and breathes deeply before he runs to his and Barney's trailer to change. He couldn't be more thankful his brother isn't there, not in the mood for his asshole of a brother. Barney actually hasn't been around in a few days and Clint has enjoyed the peace. He knows he should shower, but if he hurries then maybe he can catch up with Handsome. Nothing wrong with some light flirting right? After changing he decides to save a few seconds and leave his makeup on.

Stepping out he glances around, scanning the crowds for that one particular man. A gust of wind sends a chill through him. His jacket is so old and worn. It does nothing to keep him warm.

He groans after searching through the crowd. There are too many people! People playing games, people eating, people laughing and walking. Kids run by him, squealing and giggling. He grins softly as he watches them disappear into the crowd. He walks forward, squeezing through people, looking all around. He walks for ten minutes before he decides to get a Coke. On his way to one of the many snacks stands he sees him. He's standing a little away from the bottle stand, watching as Facial Hair fails at knocking down any bottles. The big blonde seems to be encouraging him, and it just seems to frustrate him more. Handsome actually looks very, very mildly amused by this. 

Clint walks forward and purposely bumps into him, slipping his thumb and index finger into his pocket to get his wallet. The least he can do is learn a little about the guy. And if the man doesn't come to him then Clint will just return his wallet. Nothing lost, nothing gained. "Sorry, buddy!" He calls after successfully retrieving the wallet. Handsome doesn't say anything, much to Clint's disappointment. Clint ventures forward, towards the food stand. Maria is working it tonight. He leans on the counter and gives her the good ole Barton smile. "You're going to rot your teeth with all the Coke you drink." She deadpans. 

"Thankfully I don't need my teeth for my act!" 

She rolls her eyes, not looking one bit amused, but still hands him a bottle. He cracks it open on the bottle opener built into the counter and walks the few feet to a picnic table. He hops up on it and takes a drink. His coke-intake is borderline dangerous, but he's still young. And besides, it's the only circus treat he's not tired of. He takes the man's wallet out of his pocket and looks at his driver's license. James Buchanan Barnes, 6'0, yadda, yadda. Clint stops after his height, grinning at the fact he knows the man's name. He pockets the wallet once again and takes another drink of his Coke. 

Soon someone is standing just a foot away. He looks up and is taken aback by how hot this man is. Clint instantly thought he was handsome when he saw him back in the big top, but being this close Clint can see his hazel eyes, his strong, chiseled jawline. Clint can only imagine what the rest of him looks like. 

"Hi," Clint says, breaking the silence. 

"Uh, your act was really cool." His voice is rough and deep and does something deep within Clint's body. And Clint suddenly can't remember how to flirt anymore. What are words? 

"Thanks. And uh, thanks for the dime." _Oh, brain, no. Stop._ He watches the man look him up and down and Clint likes this man looking at him. Clint takes the time to look at him as well. He's dressed in a suit, a long, black trench coat over it, black leather gloves, and his long, dark brown hair tied back and up into a bun. Clint wants to rake his fingers through it. Since when does Clint have a thing for long hair? 

This man is dressed too nice for a circus. What's he doing here? 

"Uh, yeah. No problem." 

"The name's Clint."

"Clint," the man says his name slowly and Clint wishes to hear it in a more private matter. "Nice to meet you. I'm James, but everyone calls me Bucky." 

"Is that because your middle name is Buchanan?" Clint asks before he can stop himself. 

Bucky's eyes widen at that. "How do you know that?" 

The cat's already out of the bag, so Clint takes the wallet from his pocket and holds it out. He finds it amusing when Bucky starts searching his pockets until he comes to the conclusion that the wallet in Clint's hand is his. It has his initials on it after all. "How did you..."

Clint shrugs, "I'm in the circus. It's one of my many talents. Don't worry, everything is still there." Clint's tries to hide how shocked he is at the fact that Bucky doesn't check his wallet. Either the man is so stinking rich he doesn't care if a few bills were actually missing or that he trusts Clint. Clint decides it's the latter. 

"That's pretty impressive." Clint almost blushes at Bucky's praise.

"So, why don't you like James?" 

"My best friend came up with Bucky when we were 5 or so," He shrugs, "It just always stuck, and it sounds better than James anyway. James is boring."

"I like James." Clint says, grinning when Bucky looks down, "It's a good name." Clint keeps the smile on his face, but inside he's scolding himself. 'Why can't you keep your mouth shut and let Handsome Hot Guy do all the talking?' 

"Um, s-so, how long are you here?" Bucky stutters under the compliment. 

"A week, maybe two if business is good. But we always do good in New York."

"Do you have another show tomorrow?" 

Clint shakes his head. "No, the other acts perform tomorrow. But I perform the night after tomorrow." 

"So, tomorrow night you're free to have dinner with me?" Clint almost chokes on his Coke. Did he hear right? Are his aids malfunctioning? 

Clint slowly grins and tries to hide his bewilderment. "I knew you were flirting with me." 

Bucky huffs out a laugh. "Maybe."

Clint sips his drink and Bucky watches him. Clint's aware of Bucky watching him. He likes it. He wants Bucky's attention. 

Clint brings the bottle down and licks his pink lips. "Well, James, I guess you could take me to dinner." Clint's heart is beating so wildly he wonders if it will burst. 

He hops down from the table, bottle now empty. "Meet me here tomorrow. 7, okay?"

Bucky nods and Clint thinks he looks adorable. 

"Great, see you then!" Clint calls over his shoulder as he walks away. 

Clint tosses the bottle over his shoulder and listens to it thud loudly in the trashcan by the food stand counter. He almost, 'almost' turns to see the look of awe on Bucky's face. 

He smiles widely at the thought. The smile stays on his face the whole way back to his trailer. Clint replays their conversation, the whole coin bit in his head, his cheeks hurting from smiling so big. When he steps inside he finds it empty. He sighs, half in relief that Barney still isn't there and half because of what just happened. He falls on his bed with a groan, sinking into the comfort of his purple sheets. He's exhausted. He always is after a show, but his heart is still beating wildly and he can't breathe properly. Is it because he has a date tomorrow? He's never been on a date before. He doesn't know what do, how to act, what to wear. He groans again. 

He has nothing nice to wear. Just a lot of purple t-shirts, and blue jeans, an old leather jacket and beat up converse and his Hawkeye costume. He momentarily regrets not buying a nice piece of clothing every once and a while, but it seems impossible with his salary. He only hopes, with the help of Natasha, that they can find him something at least mildly decent to wear. If anyone can make Clint look reasonably attractive, then it's Natasha. Bucky was dressed so nicely, and Clint doesn't want to show up for their date looking like homeless. 

He needs to shower, wash away the sweat, and makeup and glitter, but with his heartbeat returning to its normal pace, he's too tired. So, with a promise of showering before his date tomorrow, he falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Chapter title is from Niall Horan's song, _Seeing Blind_. Come talk to me on tumblr! FlowersOnMyMind1016

**Author's Note:**

> ~Let me know what y'all thought. Should I continue? The title of the story is from Frank Sinatra's song _I've got you under my skin_ and the chapter title is from Paul McCartney's song _Come on to me_. ~


End file.
